Unearthed
by theunaffectionist
Summary: Why so surprised? You were meant for here, for each other.
1. Chapter 1

**Lol, Ravyntree, looks like I cheated. xD Have this already-written piece of crap from dA.**

**000  
**

The pale, drawn faces of fellow spirits lifted to the sky in fright, anger, sadness…sometimes hope.

But this human boy, who followed along almost as if he were as mindless as the rest, he showed next to nothing. A slight frown, maybe, but little emotion of his ordeal until a faint, phantom pain was felt. He rolled his shoulder, uncomfortable in this new form. But that was strange, the others didn't seem to be. The strong memory of a thin metal slicing through skin and bone and muscle made him wince as if it were happening all over again. It would, not, he knew over the irrational fear, as he could not be harmed in this state of being.

The spirit brought up a pale hand, that could not be seen through in this place, to his chest with one of the more common auras radiating from his person.

Anger.

_'How dare he?'_ He had broken an unspoken rule, a contract signed in many battles' blood. The most important rule. He'd gone too far.

The boy sighed softly, closing his eyes, and continued to shuffle along with the rest of them. Even with his eyes shut tight against memories and the gray fog of this realm he noticed his ranks disappearing like the fine mist did behind. Only he noticed this, and vaguely wondered where they had been taken, or if he was made to go with them as he had here. At least it wouldn't be a surprise. The spirit looked down at his not-so-black-anymore boots as he followed the peripheral image of the wispy being in front of him. He doesn't open his eyes to see the numbers dwindle to a handful in just a few precious moments, or to watch the sad-looking grayish city buildings loom over the group like they might fall any moment upon them.

_'But that wouldn't matter in the least, would it?'_ the boy thought wryly, trudging along the poorly tended, cracked pavement and not bothering to even try to breathe the smoggy air.

The scarce and unorganized group came to a halt in front of something that must be out of a horror movie. The small building was unassuming but for a feeling that if he went anywhere near it he would cease to exist. A terrifying feeling for a small soul to feel. Dying was one thing, but you existed for a reason.

A tall man dressed as though he had died during a very primitive era straightened his wizard-esque beard and stepped forward to address the souls. His mouth opens and he says a few words that the dead boy cannot understand in a scratchy voice that echoed across the way and back.

He pauses, eyes on the boy, and extends a hand.

"Dib," the old man called for him to come forward so he could begin a journey that would change many lives beyond his own lost one.


	2. Chapter 2

**This is the last time I get to cheat. **

**l-l-l  
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The spirits left mutter amongst themselves as if irritated that they are stuck here while the strangely-lit boy stepped up to the silver-haired man with his pleasant smile. After stumbling over a particularly large and unevading crack in the pavement, Dib looked up fearlessly, as if awaiting a verdict that would condemn him to a lie he suspected behind the man's pleasant smile. It was beginning to look like a smirk to him, so he did not return the expression.

He did, however, flinch slightly at the first voice he's heard distinctly since Zim's.

"You may call me _Darius_, Dib," he suggested, pulling out of his sleeve a small bag strung on a thin metal chain.

"Why would I call you anything? I'm probably never going to see the likes of you again no matter how long I'm here..." He trailed off at that thought when the elder did not contradict him. Dib was going to be here a very long time. Longer than his precarious grip on sanity could handle, most likely.

He made a face, but his eyes are now curiously on he small bag hanging from the chain. The boy squinted at it from unreal glasses that he had no use for anymore, mouth slightly open in awe.

"What is it?" he asked. After so many years of dealing with the paranormal, the human knew far too well what beauty could hide.

The small cloth bag had a color far brighter than anything he had seen so far in this place. A sharp magenta, the individual threads seeming to glint in the nonexistent light here. Its fabric gave of the idea that it was hiding, protecting, something precious. Something that wouldn't be seen but by the shapeless figure framed by the color.

"Yours," Darius replied quietly, lifting the chain to lower it over Dib's head and ignoring the slight shying away from his gentle hands. Dib lifted the bag once the chain had settled around his neck, feeling the weight in his palm carefully.

"It's not cursed or anything, is it?" he inquired tentatively, blinking as a new feeling settled upon him. He felt real again, solid. Whole. Maybe even more himself than when he had lived.

Dib swore to himself for another thought about then. This was now. There is no Earth to save, no enemy to fight with...nothing but this colorless world he felt he was alone it.

The boy sighed again, sensing the action would be a reoccurring thing as he glances back at the group in the street, brow furrowing to realize they were gone.

Darius chuckled softly, his face seeming to age and tire as he finally decided how to answer the poor lost soul.

"Of course not, Dib. Not anymore."


End file.
